Postpartum rage; something that isn’t spoken about openly. And something I struggled with, in silence, after the birth of my first born, and for years after that.

It would come up when I was feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated, tired and irritable. And not having any idea what it was or why I was feeling like this, lashing out or having a ‘melt down’ over something seemingly insignificant, I felt guilty, ashamed and embarrassed.

The feelings of rage that would bubble to the surface at times left me feeling terrified and hopeless.

How could I feel such an anger that was so intense it felt like it shouldn’t even be called just “anger.” The kind that sneaks up on you and before you know it, you are exploding. And where did it come from? I wasn’t like this before…

Feelings of guilt

Guilty that I could feel such a negative emotion during a time that was supposed to be so full of joy! Embarrassed and ashamed because of these feelings that I didn’t dare speak to anyone about it, fearful that there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t depressed, sad or feeling blue – the emotions they warned us about at antenatal classes, so why the hell did I feel so angry at random times in the day.

Why did I feel so angry when she cried and cried and wouldn’t stop? How could I feel so much bitterness towards my beautiful baby girl.

Thinking back, I don’t know which felt worse – the intense rage or the flood of guilt that followed. I didn’t dare speak a word of what I was going through to anyone, not my mom, not friends, and not even my husband. What would they think? Would they think I was as horrid a mother as I felt?

I felt isolated and alone.

Fast forward to the birth of my son, and that all too familiar feeling returns. Not as bad as before, but it’s still there.

Exploding like a volcano

I’m sure my husband expected me to be weepy and overwhelmed, not dropping f-bombs and exploding like a volcano when things didn’t go as planned or, god forbid, the dishes hadn’t been washed. The piles of laundry, dirty floors and dishes in the sink made me anxious and always ended in a melt down. My husband walked on egg shells around me, not know what would set me off – or why.

Again, I didn’t speak to anyone about it. But this time around, I had resources and an amazing midwife who had spoken about not only postpartum depression- but postpartum anxiety and postpartum rage. Bingo! I recognised the “symptoms” and put a protocol in place so that I could start getting better.

I decided to take the natural route – being a holistic health professional and understanding the difference between healing and simply masking (or suppressing) symptoms- I knew I didn’t want the latter.

Taking care of myself became a non-negotiable priority – something that I’ve also learnt over time – so that I can be the best mom to my kids, best partner and so that I can show up for my clients – but most importantly feel happy and comfortable with myself!

Essential oils

I used essential oils to support my hormones, physical body, and emotional health. Clary Sage, specifically, helped get my hormonal balance back on track. During that time I learnt just how much of an influence our hormones have on our emotional state – and are the main culprit of the postpartum journey.

Meditation, learning to heal my triggers, energy work, dance, exercise, essential oils and regular detox baths are some of the practices I put in place, and still have in place, to ensure that my mind and emotions were as healthy as my body.

If you’re struggling with anything I’ve mentioned, please reach out. It’s terrifying to take the leap and open up about it, but trust me, it helps.

You are not the only one out there losing her shit on the daily.

I offer programs and coaching packages specifically for postpartum moms who would like to move through this journey towards becoming a happier and more balanced version of themselves. Each program/package is designed according to your specific needs. For more information, or someone to talk to, please email me at kerry@wherehumrests.com.

 – Kerry Jeromin, mom to a pigeon pair